A string tied around my fingerMeant as a constant reminderA roster of names tattooed on my memoryLest I forget

The one whose wall would not tumbleThe one whose fear governed their loveThe one who took what was not givenThe one to who mistrust was a saving graceThe one to whom deception was a virtueThe one who preyed upon my weaknessThe one who turned a blind eyeThe one whose apathy shadowed their heart

A sharp pointed fingerLike an arrow to their hearts“Remember Me”, I thoughtLaying a curse upon themLet them suffer as I doLet them suffocate in their guiltLet me not be so insignificantAs to not have had an effect on themAs they have had on me

And with those thoughts a seed was plantedWhose harvest was but a plagueInvoking a festering so consumingThere was room for nothing more than itselfMy sharp pointed finger had three behind it Aimed at my own heart

I suffocated in my own guiltMy pain had taken up the spacesWhere their misdeeds had livedFilling in the cracks with regretMy heart had become a small, locked boxNothing could get out, nothing could get inAnd though some could pick it up and shake itThey would only hear the tinkling of broken glass

Then one bright and sunny dayAs light shone upon the rest of the worldOnly then did I realize that my world was darkThat I had brought the darkness with meThat I had carried it with me all alongAnd in the struggle had lost my heart-shaped box

I felt my way through the blackened terrainTripping and falling over forgotten memoriesSearching for my small, locked boxA light flickering here and thereIlluminating the darkness for moments at a timeJust long enough catch a glimpse of my small, locked box

The light lasted longer and longer each timeA rushing of wind in my face as I searchedAnd a distant noise, not unlike that of a beating drumSuddenly, there at my feet Lay my small, locked, heart-shaped box

But wait…This box did not have a lockAnd this box did not tinkle with glass when shookBut thumped like a beating heartA light emanated from it, keeping the darkness at bayA rushing of wind forced the lid open

And there, on a little silver tag, was my name

And all became clear…The light that led me through the darkness had come from this boxMy heart-shaped boxNo longer small and batteredNo longer locked but wide openNo longer filled with broken glass, but mended and whole

And in this no less than miraculous momentI envisioned the faces of those I had pointed my finger atAnd realized they were just like me

Damaged and brokenHurt and afraidDistrusting and cynicalSad and angryRegretful and guilt-riddenResentful and unforgiving

And capable of atonementIf only they’re willing to search the darknessFor their heart-shaped box

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